MY JOB

MY JOB; Adding Aplomb to Media Faces

By MARY TAVON; Written with Alice Feiring.

Published: May 11, 2003

THE people I have trained to hold their own against hard-nosed reporters run the gamut, from Lancôme makeup artists backstage at the Emmys to the chief executive of a giant corporation preparing for Congressional hearings.

But I had one of my more unusual training sessions in a Florida alligator pen.

My assignment was the Gator Guy for the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. At first, he didn't take me seriously. When I asked him how it felt to be the newest star attraction at the circus, he said, ''It's the first time I've ever had life insurance.'' He just followed with one flip answer after another. I was about to go into Mean Mary mode when he asked if I wanted to go and pet an alligator's tail. I looked him unflinchingly and said, ''Absolutely.''

In the pen were three very still, big, fat, bored alligators. As gently and quickly as I could, I petted a tail, trying to think of it as a pocketbook. I must have passed the test, because when we went back outside and resumed the interview, he gave me straight answers.

I had another encounter that reminded me of the alligator pen when I met with a high-ranking financial executive. This man's response to my first question was, ''I didn't think someone as pretty as you could ask such a difficult question.'' I ignored him. This was a mistake because he accelerated on the provocation pedal with: ''It's hard to concentrate while sitting next to you. I know you want this information. What if we discuss it over dinner?''

I turned the camera off and said: ''Let's have a little chat. If you go out into the world with this M.O., your bedside manner will become the story, and not your message.'' He swore that this approach had worked for him in the past with women reporters. I told him it had to stop. He didn't have the tools to change easily so I had to hand-feed him desexualized responses to practice in our mock sessions. I'm not in the business of giving makeovers, but in this case I certainly had to break some very bad habits.

Once, I was riding a horse at full gallop when my helmet slid over my eyes and a tree branch over the trail knocked me onto a pile of rocks. I wasn't badly hurt, but since I was an hour away from the stables, I had no choice but to get back on the horse, terrified as I was. A story about ''getting back on the horse'' might sound like a cliché, but it has helped me with clients.

A woman I was training to be a spokesperson for her retail company burst into tears while she was being videotaped in front of her peers and subordinates. There are times when I'll push clients very hard so they will be prepared for any tough questioning, but this wasn't one of them.

The woman cried, ''I can't do this,'' and ran outside the room. I followed her. She was mortified, and for a while she refused to go back and face her audience. I told her my horseback story, gave her a pep talk about how she was terrific and much too hard on herself. I got her back into that room and back on the horse.